The Scott Name
by LookCloser2
Summary: The Brucas baby of season 1 was put up for adoption over seventeen years ago, without Lucas' knowledge. After his adoptive parents are killed, Adam returns to Tree Hill to find Brooke Davis and Lucas Scott. Brucas friendship
1. Internship: The Return to Tree Hill

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**The Scott Name**

"Hello, I'm Adam Johnson," said the boy. The man behind the desk stood up and straightened his tie before reaching out to shake the boy's hand. "We spoke on the phone," added Adam. "About an internship."

The man smiled easily. "Of course, I remember. Can you start today?"

Startled, Adam nodded. "Yes, yes I can start right now."

"Perfect." Grinned the man. "My secretary will tell you what you need to know." With that, he dismissed Adam from his office. The man watched him leave, wondering what it was about the boy that seemed so familiar. But a second later he dismissed it as a coincidence and turned back to his work.

Adam could feel the man's eyes on him as he left the office. Although he hid it well, he was trembling from his sandy-haired head to his feet. To anyone who looked at that moment, although no one did, they would have seen the pain, and fear, and intense curiosity betrayed within his electric blue eyes. It had been shocking walking in there, really, and seeing him after all these years. His face, known only from an old and crumpled photograph, had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember. But it was the nameplate on the desk that had sent the first tremor through his lanky body. _Lucas Scott_, it read, _President_. "_Scott," _thought Adam. It was the name he would have had, if his mother hadn't given him up for adoption over seventeen years ago. _"Adam_ _Scott."_

And then the secretary called his name, his real name, and Adam snapped back into the reality of what was.

***********************

"Adam, come here for a moment," called Lucas Scott from his office. A tall boy was lounging casually by Lucas' desk. He had loose brunette curls that fell almost to his shoulders and sparkling blue eyes.

"Adam, this is my nephew, Jamie," introduced Lucas. "You two are probably pretty close in age. Are you seventeen?"

"I'll be eighteen next month, sir," replied Adam.

Lucas nodded. "Well, Jamie here is sixteen, going on thirty." He laughed, as did Jamie and Adam, indulgingly.

Jamie straightened and reached out a hand. "James Scott, nice to meet you."

Adam clasped it and replied, "Adam Johnson, it's my pleasure." But running through his mind were the words _It shouldn't be like this. I shouldn't have to introduce myself to my own cousin. We could have grown up together._ The words were reflected in his eyes, but Jamie didn't notice. Lucas did, and he wondered about it for sometime afterwards, but he couldn't distinguish what that pain and longing had meant, or even what it was.


	2. As Scared As You

EIGHTEEN AND A HALF YEARS EARLIER

_Brooke, I'm just as scared as you are._ His words echoed in her head as she stood in front of the abortion clinic. They were too young to be parents, too young to have this kind of responsibility, too young to be making these kinds of choices. Slowly, timidly, she took a step forward, and inside.

The table was cold. She shifted, uncomfortable. Where was that nurse? It had been ten minutes, maybe twenty. _Brooke, I'm just as scared as you are._ "Stop," she muttered to the voice in her head. "Stop saying that!" The room was too hot. She could smell the cleaning products they'd used to sterilize the room. It tickled her nose and made her want to sneeze. Where was that nurse? She just wanted to get this over with. No, needed. She needed to get this over with. Outside the door she heard someone pass the door and continue down the hallway. Their steady footsteps sounded like a heartbeat. Where did that come from, she wondered. _Brooke, I'm just as scared as you are._ "Stop!" she screamed.

"I'm sorry, dear," responded the doctor, standing in the doorway. "Is something wrong?"

"I – I can't do this." mumbled Brooke. She clambered off the table and raced past the nurse, angrily brushing the tears from her eyes.

***********************

She lay face down on her bed, the words they had both said tumbling through her head like a waterfall just after a thunderstorm.

_"You can't cut me out of this. Brooke, I'm just as scared as you are!" Lucas had pleaded, but it was too late for that._

_"Oh, really? Or are you just worried that having a kid might deflate your market value?" She had to protect herself; she would never let him hurt their child as he had hurt her._

"_How do I even know it's mine?" His words were vicious and he nearly snarled them at her._

_"Trust me, it's yours." She'd retorted angrily. She walked away, leaving him stunned. It served him right._

"_Don't shut me out of this, okay? We can deal with it together." She didn't know why he kept pleading with her. She was giving him a way out. He didn't want her or her baby anyway._

_"But we're not together, remember?" Her comment was harsh, she knew that. But it was better to let him see the angry, bitter side than the hurt, lonely side that missed him. The side that wanted him back and cried over him every night._

She fell asleep, sprawled across the bed, her dry tears streaked across her cheeks. Her dreams were full of white-gowned doctors and babies crying and a blonde boy that wouldn't stop pleading with her.

He woke her later, walking right into her room just like he always had.

"What part of stay away from me do you not understand?" she'd asked cruelly. He shook his head and frowned, his eyes begging her, yet again, to listen.

"Just give me sixty seconds okay?" His voice was soft, and it took all she had not to give in.

"I'm sorry, but argument cut-off was nine-o-clock." She couldn't do this right now, not any of it.

"I don't want to argue. You don't even have to say anything. Just listen." He settled himself on her bed, careful not to sit too close. "My dad didn't want me, okay? Not just that he didn't want to claim me, he didn't want me to be born. And I always thought that when I started a family I'd be older, and settled, and I'd be…"

"In love?" she cut in as he trailed off.

"Yeah," he sighed. "But so did my mom."

"Lucas –"

"No, look…this whole thing scares the hell out of me, okay? But whatever you decide to do, I'll be there. And if you're not ready, then you're not ready, but if you want to have this baby, then so do I. And whatever it takes for me to be a good father, I'll be there. Always, I promise you. I won't let you down." She almost gave in to him right then, almost let him take her in his arms and hold her like he used to. He would be a good father one day, but today wasn't the right time. Even if he wanted to try, he couldn't raise a baby. He had too many dreams and so did she.

Slowly, she looked him in the eyes. Timidly, she whispered, "I lied."

"What?" He just looked confused and her heart broke.

"I'm not pregnant." It took all of her courage to say those three words. He couldn't know how close she came to giving in to him.

He argued with her because he was bewildered – after all, he had seen the test. It was a mistake, she'd explained. That can happen. He yelled then, and she knew she had done the right thing. It would never have worked between them. In a few days he would go back to his precious Peyton and she would just be a bad memory. And the baby…he would never know about it. It was better that way. She knew she couldn't abort it now. After leaving the clinic earlier, she knew she wouldn't be able to go back. Besides, she couldn't so that to Lucas, couldn't do to his baby what Dan had wanted to do to him. If she couldn't get rid of it she would go away for a while. There was nothing left for her in Tree Hill anyway.

She found out years later that he told his mother that evening that it had just been a scare. A scare, she thought, and his words echoed through her mind yet again. _Brooke, I'm just as scared as you are._ "Shut up, SHUT UP!" she screamed into her pillow. There was nobody else to yell at now. She was truly all alone.

***********************

He walked into his bedroom, months later, as she was packing for California. Even now she was barely showing, a bulky sweatshirt helping her to keep her secret.

"Look, are we ever going to talk about Peyton, and the stuff you found?" he questioned.

She looked up at him, her emotions carefully controlled, betraying nothing. "Actually, I was kind of relieved," she stated.

"Relieved?"

"I thought you might be into me. And it would have ruined everything because we've become friends and that's exactly what I needed…and it's exactly what I want." She explained slowly. She was so close to leaving and prayed that he would drop the issue before she lost this months-long façade.

"But you seemed upset that I held on to all that stuff," he argued. _Drop it_, she prayed silently as he added, "You still do."

She shook her head slowly. "Finding that stuff was like a kind of like evidence. It reminded me of what happened, and how it happened, and I guess my heart just wasn't ready for that." Several months ago, he would have seen straight through her lie. He would have figured out her defensive act and understood her tears. He would have put together the days out sick and the baggy clothes and her willingness to leave the only home she'd ever known to join parents that had never cared about her. But he hadn't payed that close attention, hadn't read her thoughts or interpreted her every emotion in a long time. She could leave now with him as a friend, and nothing more.

In the end, she almost told him. He kissed her and it felt so comfortable, so good, so _right_. "Tell me that was a goodbye kiss," she murmured. He shook his head, started to talk, but she blocked out his words. It could only be a goodbye kiss. Leaving was what she had to do. She walked out the door, looked back once, turned away again. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Her eyes betrayed her secret but he didn't notice. She left without telling him.


	3. Telling Lucas

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"I can't do it anymore!" she cried. She was in agony.

"You got yourself into this mess," declared her mother. "It's almost over, thank God."

"Come on, Brooke, you can do it," encouraged the doctor. "It's crowning, just give me another push."

Straining, crying, Brooke took a deep breath and pushed._ Brooke, I'm just as scared as you are._ His voice echoed through the room. Through a weary haze she heard a slap and the sound of a baby crying.

"Look at our little boy," cooed a female voice in the distance.

"Ten little fingers and ten little toes," replied a male. "Just perfect. You know, it's really too bad that Brooke will never see him again."

Never see him again. Never see him again. Over and over, she heard the words. The doctors took up the chant and through the haze Brooke saw Victoria leaning over her, grinning maliciously. "You'll never see him again, Brooke. You gave him away. Ten little fingers and ten little toes, but you gave him away."

"What did you, Brooke?" Lucas was standing next to her, a horrified look on his face. "What did you do, Brooke? How could you?"

Sweating, Brooke woke up. Lucas, her mother and the chanting doctors disappeared into the darkness. She was in her own room, alone. Brooke glanced around, imagined a crib stuck in the corner and toys scattered across the floor. She reached under her pillow and pulled out a tattered photograph. A newborn looked back with big, blue eyes. His soft blonde curls wisped across his forehead. Sadly, reverently, Brooke laid a kiss on the old photograph and tucked it back under her pillow. She wondered what he looked like now. Probably just like Lucas. She had known from the second she'd held him in her arms that he would look just like Lucas. It was one of the reasons she couldn't keep him. He had a mother and father now that loved him and that loved each other. He deserved that. It was another reason she gave him up.

************************

When Peyton called her and asked her to come home, to Tree Hill, she knew that the time was coming to tell him. For years she had tried to forget, had hoped that he would never find out. But she knew, now, that the secret would never go away. Lucas would find out eventually and she had to be the one to tell him.

Angie had come and gone before she finally worked up the courage. He had loved that baby girl as much as she had; it was the first time she allowed herself to really question her decision. But she had made the right choice. They had been so young, so unsure about life and themselves. He had been able to finish college, had gone out and written a novel; she'd headed a high-end fashion line. None of that would have happened if they'd had a baby at seventeen. Fate had brought them together again, as friends, nothing more. But she had to tell him soon, before it was too late.

When Peyton announced that she was pregnant, Brooke knew that she had waited too long. A month after the news had broken, she found him at the cemetery talking to Keith.

"Hey, Luke," she said, walking up to take a seat beside him.

"Hey, there, Cheery," he grinned.

Brooke laughed nervously. "You haven't called me that in a long time."

Lucas chuckled. "What's new, Brooke?"

Brooke glanced at him and looked down at her hands twisting in her lap. "I…I have something to tell you."

"Okay," smiled Lucas. "You know that you can tell me anything, right?

"You're going to hate me," she whispered, an unwanted tear coursing down her cheek.

"Hey, I could never hate you," he murmured, drawing her in for a hug. Brooke settled against his chest and wondered how they had gotten so close again, after everything they had put each other through.

"You will," she mumbled. "But you have to understand, I couldn't tell you the truth, not then. We wouldn't have made it. All the things you've done, and you and Peyton, you're soul mates."

"Brooke," began Lucas. "I'm confused. Why couldn't you tell me the truth?"

"I just told you why," rambled Brooke. "You had so much to do with your life. Your book and Peyton and the movie and the baby…" Her voice caught on the last word, her eyes filling with tears.

"Brooke, just because Peyton and I are having a baby it doesn't mean that I'm kicking you out of my life. Is that what this is about? You'll be a huge part of this baby's life. It will love you, just like I do."

"It can't love me," she sobbed into his chest. "Not after what I did. Your son, Luke, your baby."

"Son?" Lucas asked, shocked. "Did Peyton say something? She promised that we would wait and be surprised."

"No." Brooke shook her head, still sobbing. "Peyton didn't know."

"Brooke, what do you mean by didn't? Why do you keep saying son? I need you to talk to me, Brooke. What's wrong?" His voice was gentle and only made her cry harder.

"He was a boy. A son, Lucas. " She hiccupped through her tears.

"Brooke –"

"No, just…let me get this out. I lied to you, Lucas, back in high school. About the pregnancy."

Somberly, Lucas nodded. "I know. You told me, remember? It was just a scare, but we got in a fight and so you told me that the doctor had confirmed the pregnancy. But later that night you told me the truth. Why are you still thinking about that?"

Brooke shook her head. "No, that was the lie. I was pregnant, Luke, but we had broken up and you were so clearly in love with Peyton. I couldn't keep the baby."

"So what, Brooke!" cried Lucas angrily. He brushed her off and stood up, his arms crossed. "You got rid of our baby, just like that? You knew that Dan had tried to abort me! You knew! How could you do that to me, to our baby?"

"No!" exclaimed Brooke. "I almost did but I couldn't, okay? In California, I…I had it. He looked just like you, Lucas. He was so perfect."

Lucas mouth dropped open, his face frozen in fury. "All this time? My son…where is he? What did you do with him?"

"They were nice people, Luke. They'll love him like their own."

"So, what, you just gave him to strangers? You had him and you gave him away?" His voice trembled with rage.

"Luke," Brooke pleaded with him to understand. Ironic, she thought, how the tables are turned. "We couldn't have taken care of a baby. We were still kids ourselves, we had so much we still wanted to do. He deserved so much better than the life we had to offer him. And he has it, now. He has it."

Luke shook his head, stunned, angry and hurt. "Brooke," he mumbled, backing away, his hands raised to surrender. "I just…I can't do this right now. I can't."

Brooke nodded and watched him turn, watched him walk away until he was just a speck at the edge of the graveyard, heading back to Peyton and their child. A tear rolled slowly down her cheek. She watched until she could no longer see him and then she went home and packed. She'd catch a flight to Milan in the morning. That was the best solution for everyone. She left without telling him.


	4. Brooke Is Back

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Adam was nervous when he walked into the office Wednesday morning. It was nearing the end of summer and if he didn't find the courage soon, his internship would end and so would his chance to tell the truth.

Lucas Scott looked up as Adam walked in. The phone was ringing. "Adam, can you grab that, please?" Lucas requested.

"Yes, boss," Adam responded.

Lucas chuckled. "Adam, you know you don't have to call me boss."

Adam nodded. "I know." He didn't tell Lucas that whenever he said boss, he was actually saying Dad in his head. Even though he wasn't brave enough to say it aloud, yet, it still felt good. Sighing, he picked up the phone.

_"Hello?" _came the voice on the line._ "May I speak to Lucas Scott, please?"_

"One moment," said Adam. "Let me put you on hold."

"Thank you, Adam." Lucas looked up and smiled. "Do you mind waiting a moment? I have a question for you." Adam nodded and sat down. "Hello?" Lucas said into the phone. "Oh, hi, Peyt…what do you mean, here?" He leaned back in the chair, sighing heavily, and Adam listened curiously. "Tomorrow? Okay, I see…yes, yes, of course…okay, thank you Peyton…love you, too…bye."

Adam frowned. "Is Peyton your girlfriend?" he asked anxiously.

Lucas laughed. "No, my wife." He held up his left hand and Adam noticed the gold band in his ring finger. "See, there's a picture of her with my daughters." Lucas turned a picture on his desk so that Adam could see it.

"Oh." Adam frowned again. The Adoption Agency had said that his parents' names were Lucas and Brooke, nothing about a Peyton. The picture on the desk was of a blonde woman with two fair-haired daughters. She looked nothing like the crumpled photograph Adam had possessed for as long as he could remember. In that picture, the woman was a brunette, and her dimpled smile always cheered Adam up when he was upset.

"Is everything okay?" Lucas asked quietly. "You seem concerned."

"Yeah," muttered Adam distractedly. "I'm fine."

"Okay, well, I had a question for you. Jamie's birthday is coming up and I need advice on what to buy him. I don't have a son of my own, so I don't really know…" Lucas trailed off. Images flashed through his mind – Brooke telling him she was pregnant, kissing her before she left for California, their discussion in the graveyard when she told him about his son and waking up the next morning to find her letter on his doorstep.

"_Dear Luke," it had read "I'm sorry to have told you what I did yesterday. I made a choice that was best for both of us back then; I wouldn't be able to bear it if you hate me. For that reason, I've decided that it is best for me to leave. Please don't come looking for me. I know that you and Peyton will make great parents. All my love, Brooke Davis._

"Mr. Scott?" questioned Adam. "You look like you're about to cry."

Lucas was pulled from the memory back into the present. Adam was watching him concernedly. "I'm fine, Adam," murmured Lucas. "My wife just told me that an old friend was coming back into town. I guess it took me by surprise. I haven't seen her in ten years." He laughed. "Brooke Davis, back from Italy after all these years."

"Brooke is coming into town?" Adam declared, startled.

"Yes…why, do you know her?" Lucas frowned, perplexed.

"Oh…no…" Adam recovered. "I just…um, I've heard the name. Somewhere."

Lucas nodded. "She used to be a well-known designer. Maybe she still is, in Europe. We lost touch many years ago."

"What happened?" Adam asked curiously. He knew he was overstepping his place, but maybe he would finally find out why they hadn't wanted him.

Lucas stared at him for a moment, then settled back in his chair and smiled. There was something about this boy that confused and intrigued him. He couldn't place his finger on it, but he felt comfortable having such a personal discussion with the eighteen-year old. "She and my wife were best friends their entire lives. And I loved both of them. But Brooke never thought she was good enough. We both hurt each other badly and by the time we got another chance, it was too late. Peyton and I got engaged and Brooke left for Italy shortly after that. I haven't seen her since."

"Was she good enough?" ventured Adam.

Lucas sighed. "I love Peyton, I do. But there's something special about Brooke, something that I don't think even she recognizes in herself. She was always good enough, yes. If only I could have gotten her to stop running. I regret that now, all the things we lost because we never gave each other the chance."

"Mr. Scott? Do you think that I could meet Brooke? I mean, she sounds like a great person and well, I learned a little Italian in high school and…" Adam trailed off. And I'd like to finally meet my mother, he thought to himself.

Lucas thought for a moment. "I think that would be alright with her, Adam. At least, with the Brooke I used to know. Tell you what. Why don't you come over for our family dinner on Friday night. I'm sure Jamie would appreciate the company. He's usually stuck with the adults and the little girls." Lucas chuckled. "But now we had better get to work or else we'll never get to Friday."


	5. Family Once More

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The rest of the week couldn't pass quickly enough for Adam. Friday evening he tried on five different shirts before he finally glanced at the clock and realized that he'd better get going or risk being late.

Lucas Scott was rich. Adam had realized it at the beginning of the summer – the respect Lucas received, even from non-employees, the fabulous cocktail parties of which he'd heard rumors and the impeccably-pressed suits had clued him in. But it wasn't until Adam saw his house – his ridiculously large mansion with its iron gate and personal gatehouse – that the reality of the situation struck Adam.

The thirty seconds that Adam spent on the front steps was the longest half-minute of his life. Then the door opened and Lucas was there, welcoming him in and reaching for his coat. "Everybody's in there." Lucas gestured down the hallway. "Go on in." With a shy smile, Adam followed the sound of chatter and clinking wine glasses. The hallway was filled with large paintings and statues that Adam decided belonged more in a museum than in a house. To him, this house and its fancy people were entirely foreign. It was the raspy laughter a moment later that sounded so familiar, though he didn't ever remember hearing it before. He knew, then, that it was his mother.

Her back was to him when he entered the room. She was sitting on the couch still shaking with laughter. He coughed quietly and the group turned; his eyes focused only on her. "You must be Adam," she said. "I've heard a lot about you."

He grinned, a smirk playing across his lips. "Only good things, I should hope."

She laughed aloud and his heart soared to hear that sound he had only just fallen in love with, to have made her laugh like that. Her hair was short, the dark wisps framing her face, bringing out the angles of her cheekbones and her dark eyes. She had dimples, Adam noticed, like his. He made a mental note that night to find out everything they had in common. It might be his only chance.

He sat across from her at dinner, and next to Jamie. She smiled at him throughout the meal, winking when she brought up embarrassing stories of Lucas and Peyton as teenagers and chuckling when they returned the favor. And Adam filed it away, every moment, every story, every smile and wink and chuckle, because you never knew when it could all be gone. Gone, like his parents, two years ago in a car crash. Gone, like his little sister, asleep in the back seat. Then came a year of being shuttled between relatives, a year of searching desperately for the people who gave him up at birth, until, at last, he didn't have to search anymore. After that, a few more months, so he could finish high school. And finally, finally, getting an internship under Lucas Scott, a man he'd dreamed about long before he knew his name.

"Adam? Adam!" Jamie's voice broke Adam from his memories. "My Aunt Peyton was asking if you enjoyed your dinner," he told the teenager quietly.

"Yes, thank you." Adam looked up at Peyton and smiled. "It was quite delicious. I really appreciate you inviting me tonight."

"Of course, Adam." Peyton smiled sweetly at him. My step-mother, Adam realized suddenly. He speculated on what had come between Lucas and Brooke almost nineteen years ago, and wondered if it was him. "I'm sorry that you couldn't meet our daughters," she continued. "Maybe some other time." Adam nodded, disappointed that the girls were at a sleepover, that he would have to wait that much longer to meet these little half-sisters.

***********************

"He was sweet," Peyton said later, when the adults were gathered in the living room. Adam had left, Jamie offering to take him on his way home, because the adults would be "catching up all night long and boring us with their mindless chatter," as Jamie put it. Adam hadn't thought he'd mind, not really, but he knew that he should take the offer. Maybe, just maybe, he would be invited back again.

Lucas nodded. "He's a good kid, hard worker. But I swear, sometimes I see him staring off into space and he just seems so far away. There's something troubling the boy, you can see it in his eyes."

Brooke sobered then, her look serious. "It's pain, fear." she spoke quietly. "I saw it too, Luke. He's lost someone. Maybe I could help him, talk to him or something. Let him know that he's not alone." Luke sighed, understanding the words Brooke wasn't saying. _I lost someone too, a long time ago. I know how he feels. Maybe I can help._

He didn't speak but his eyes responded. _I remember, Brooke. Maybe that's a good idea. If anybody can understand it's you…us._ They had learned to read each other a long time ago, a connection he had never found with anyone since, including Peyton.

"They're doing it again!" accused Haley, laughing.

"What?" asked Peyton, confused, unaware of what had just transpired.

"Their whole talk-with-the-eyes thing they did in high school." Everyone shifted uncomfortably at Haley's comment. It had been two decades since the Peyton-Lucas-Brooke triangle, but everyone in the room was all too aware of the elephant that it left in the room, even now. Lucas and Brooke looked away and the moment was lost.


	6. The Truth Comes Out

**This is the second to last chapter. I hope you all enjoyed my story and thank you to those who reviewed!**

She was in Lucas' office when he walked in on Monday. "Adam?" called Lucas. "Will you come in here for a moment, please?"

He looked down at her, a good foot taller at eighteen. "Hi," he mumbled, and she smiled at him.

"Adam," began Lucas. "How would you like to take the day off today? You must have made quite an impression on Brooke here the other night, because she couldn't stop talking after you left about what a charming young man you are."

Brooke laughed. "What Lucas means to say is that I have to leave for Milan again in a few days. But I'd love to get to know you better, before I go."

Adam nodded quickly, shuffling his feet. Suddenly depressed, he looked up. "You're leaving again?"

"Just for a few weeks. I've decided it's time to move back home. I just have some loose ends to take care of in Milan." She smiled again. "How about a tour of town? I bet Lucas has been working you so hard this summer that you haven't had an official tour yet."

Adam grinned. "That sounds perfect."

***********************

They were on the pier, walking slowly and licking their identical ice cream cones.

Brooke chuckled. "I still can't believe that you got a scoop of mint chocolate chip and a scoop of black raspberry."

Adam grinned. "The best of both worlds. Why choose one when you can get both together?"

Brooke nodded. "Exactly! I've been telling everybody that for years but nobody understands!"

Adam laughed. "Nobody in my family understood either…well, except for my little sister." He sighed sadly. "She always wanted to do everything just like her big brother."

Brooke frowned at his tone. "She sounds adorable. How old is she?"

"She would be nine." He glanced up and fixed Brooke with a despairing gaze. "He was drunk. They told me later. It didn't stop him from driving. He ran a red light. They were coming to my basketball game. He hit them from the side. My parents died on impact but my little sister…she made it to the hospital. I was holding her hand when she died. I could see the blood transfusion dripping into her little veins, I could hear her gasping for air…and then she just stopped." Tears were streaming down his face. "She just stopped. She was seven."

"It's not your fault," whispered Brooke.

Adam nodded, wiping away his tears, embarrassed to be crying in front of her and on the pier, no less. "I know. For months I tortured myself. Why did they have to come see me that night. What if they had been just a few minutes earlier or later. What if, what if. But it didn't bring them back." He laughed harshly. "Once I even asked myself, what if they had never adopted me. Would they still be alive? Eventually I just stopped feeling sorry for myself and learned to go on without them. But it's still hard."

Brooke wiped away a tear that had made its way down her cheek. "I'm sorry, Adam."

"Yeah, me too," he whispered.

"So, you were adopted?" she questioned tentatively. Adam smiled, wondering if the time had finally come for the truth. Wondering how she would take it.

"When I was a baby. My parents were at the hospital when I was born. A few days later they got to take me home and that was that. I was their son."

Brooke sighed. "Can I tell you something? Something private?" He nodded. "Many years ago, back in high school, I found out I was pregnant. And I couldn't have a baby. I had so much to do and the father…I wasn't with the father anymore. My parents would have freaked, they did freak, and all my friends…but I couldn't get rid of it – him – either. I think about him every day," she whispered. "If he's happy now, what he looks like, what he does for fun. If he hates me because I gave him away. Do you think he hates me, Adam?"

Surprised, Adam watched her carefully. "My mom and dad always told me that my birth parents loved me more than anything. But they saw how much my parents wanted a baby and so my birth mother gave me to my mom and my dad. When I was little, I didn't really understand. But I think I do now. So I don't think that your son hates you, Brooke. I know he doesn't."

She smiled at him and his heart burst. "Thank you," she whispered, and she had tears in her eyes.

"Brooke?" He murmured tentatively, knowing that he had to say it now or he would lose his nerve. "Do you know how else I knew my birth parents loved me? When I was born, my mother named me. But my birth mother picked my middle name so that I always knew where I came from."

"Scott," whispered Brooke. "I made her promise that his middle name would be Scott."

Adam smirked, the famous Scott grin. "Adam Scott Johnson. For my two families." She hugged him then, and he held on tighter than he'd ever held on before, because all his dreams were finally coming true. "Have you loved me for all these years?" he murmured softly, and she smiled through her tears.

"Every minute," she whispered. "Every day."

She pulled back too soon. Thoughts raced through his mind – she doesn't like me, she's leaving; she doesn't believe me; or, worse yet, she still doesn't want me. "Adam," she stated. "Let's go tell your father."

She hesitated outside the office door. Adam smiled at her. "Brooke, I'm just as scared as you are." _Brooke, I'm just as scared as you are. _Hand in hand, they went inside.

************************

Molly was standing in Lucas' office when he and Brooke walked back in. She was wearing a yellow dress, so unlike his old basketball jerseys that she normally wore with jean shorts, but it was her. Her blond curls were carefully pulled back into pigtails and her blue eyes sparkled. His eyes swimming with tears for the third time that day, he rushed up and dropped to his knees, pulling her into a tight hug. "Molly," he whispered. "Oh, Molly." Gently, he stroked her hair. But it wasn't her. The little girl shrugged him off and declared, "I'm not Molly. I'm Anna." He frowned then, stood, dusted off his knees.

"Adam," said a loud voice behind him. "I see you've met my daughter, Anna."

"Anna," repeated Adam. "Anna, not Molly." Closer now, he saw that it wasn't her, that it would never be her. Not anymore.

Behind him, Brooke's heart broke for her son. To have lost so much at such a young age was tragic. Thinking about it though, really, they weren't so different. By eighteen, she too had lost her parents, at least in any sense of the word parent. Lucas and Peyton were together, Brooke brushed aside. He was gone, by then, taken by his adoptive parents to their home across the country. She didn't know where. When she'd asked, they hadn't told her. She didn't ask again. By eighteen, she had lost her parents, her son, the only home she had ever known and the one boy she truly could have loved. They weren't so different after all.

"Luke," Brooke broke in. "Adam has something he wants to tell you."

"Okay, Adam, shoot," allowed Lucas. Adam paused, unsure how to start. After all these years of picturing scenarios of meeting his father, this wasn't one of them. Something wasn't right. Frowning, he silently pleaded with Brooke to help.

"Not here," she added, nodding to Adam. "At the rivercourt."

Adam smiled. She had told him about the significance of the rivercourt over lunch. It was the perfect place.

***********************

"No." said Lucas.

Adam gaped, stunned, and Brooke scowled.

"No," he repeated. "That's just not possible." He was pacing, his hands moving wildly to accompany the words he wasn't uttering. "No. No, no, no, it can't be. Because then," he stumbled. "Because then…" His eyes snapped up and he interrupted himself. "My God. It's you. After all these years. You're – you're my –"

"Son," broke in Adam. "I'm your son."

"My son." Dazed, he repeated the words again. "My son."


	7. Rivercourt Talk

**Thanks for reading!!!**

"I love Peyton," Lucas stated a few nights later. Brooke shivered in the night air and he drew her closer to his side. Together, they huddled on the bleachers by the rivercourt.

"I know," she whispered. "Our time was over in high school. I would never come between you and Peyton. I think we've all learned our lesson there."

He chuckled softly. "Yeah. I never meant to hurt you, Brooke."

She nodded. In the past twenty years, they had all grown up. "I know. I knew it then, too. It was just so…" She trailed off.

"Hard?" Lucas stated.

"Yeah. God, we were so young." Brooke sighed.

"We were the same age as Jamie and Adam," he reminded her.

She smiled at that, the thought of their son. "He came back to us," she murmured.

Lucas smiled. "People who are meant to be together…"

Brooke finished his words. "…always find their way in the end." He laid a kiss on her forehead and, gently, he squeezed his arm tighter around her, pulling her in to his side.

"Broody?" she whispered. "What if he doesn't like us after all?"

He smiled into her dark hair. "Not possible." He sighed, almost silently. "Brooke, you don't have to be scared anymore."

_Brooke, I'm just as scared as you are._ She smiled. "I know."

THE END


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